


Front Lines

by otppurefuckingmagic



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grieving Magnus, POV Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 04:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6315016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otppurefuckingmagic/pseuds/otppurefuckingmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Downworlder Week - Warlock Day.</p>
<p>Magnus grieves for the warlocks lost on Valentine's attack of Magnus' lair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Front Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after Valentine’s attack on Magnus’ lair in S1E4. A canon fill-in fic for Downworlders Week, because I was disappointed that Magnus’ reaction to the warlocks’ deaths wasn’t shown or talked about on screen…

The loss of so many warlocks in such a short time sat like a leaden weight on Magnus’ heart. 

Elias was dead, his demon mark sitting on some medium-rare Circle members shelf until hours ago when Magnus had tracked the collection down and burned the man’s house–and his sick obsession–into ashes.

The warlock child Zoe had lost her father, but Magnus had ensured that she would be cared for until the time she was ready to go out on her own. She wouldn’t be abandoned or rejected, not like he had been.

The warlocks who had survived the massacre were now holed up on safer ground–far away from him and the vendetta Valentine had on him for helping the Fairchild girl. Those who hadn’t survived were being laid to rest tonight. Protected by wards that would keep their still-magical bones from ever being used for anything of a dark nature. They deserved that peace. 

For now, it had to be enough.

Even when it wasn’t nearly enough in Magnus’ eyes.

He crashed onto his bed face first, closing his eyes and curling into a ball, able to let down his own guard for the first time in over a day. It was merely a moment of respite, a moment where Magnus tried not to _think._  He only had minutes to truly grieve before there was more that couldn’t be ignored.

He needed to live with his sorrow before he could move on.

Warlocks were rare, their numbers not growing at an exponential rate despite their immortality. Tessa was the only warlock he’d known to have children, but even if others had found the ability, warlock children were often murdered as soon as their differences became apparent.

The loss of each individual soul was a loss for this world.

Despite the cynicism Magnus himself brought to this topic, he had no doubt that warlocks too had a soul with value. The power held in their hands was demonic in origin, but it was human in its expression.

Warlocks may have born out of something vile, but Magnus encountered few who believed that evil defined their existence. On the contrary, because of how they’d been born, warlocks were more open to good. They were aware of just how vicious the world was from a very young age, so it was kindness that made the most indelible impressions on them.

The world had lost too many gentle souls tonight, and there were few who would understand that this was a tragedy.

So Magnus grieved for them.

His cheeks were wet, his makeup smeared across his face, and he struggled to calm his erratic, too-shallow breathing, when he went into the bathroom minutes later.

The man who emerged was resolute.

Let Valentine come for him. Magnus looked weak right now….

Yet he was anything but.

That Valentine had been able to make it through his and Tessa’s wards was alarming. Valentine had always been driven, willing to go to lengths–and to hellish depths–no one else would.

The Circle was rising again, and Magnus knew no good could come of this. If Downworlders were going to be safe, there would need to be conversations about alliances. There had to be a shift that came from the highest ranks. But true alliances took time–something Magnus was aware they didn’t have much of.

He swept his hair off his forehead, took a deep breath, and picked up his cell.

“I was wondering if I’d hear from you tonight,” Raphael greeted him on the other end of the line.

Magnus flicked his fingers, creating a blue orb that he spun in his palm. “You know what happened then.”

“I heard.”

He would get no condolences from Raphael, but he hadn’t expected them. He extinguished the orb in a tight fist, focusing on how best to make Raphael understand what they were facing. “Then you also know it’s time for us to maintain open communication channels. Warlocks won’t be the only Downworlders Valentine goes after.”

“I’m more concerned with the nephilim. They are unusually active in Downworlder business.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes. That likely meant the vampires had inserted _themselves_ into Shadowhunter business. “What’s going on, Raphael?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with…as of yet.”

Raphael would tell him if there was something that directly effected the warlocks. For now, Magnus would give Raphael the space he was asking for–even if that request hadn’t been outright. Magnus knew him well enough to hear between the words. “While our relationship can be contentious”–Raphael laughed at that and Magnus smirked–”I still believe you should be leading the New York Clan.”

“I’m content to bide my time watching,” Raphael said languidly.

Magnus didn’t even consider that Raphael was telling him the truth. “You fail to remember that I know you, Raphael. You are indeed watching, but you are _not_ waiting. Tell me what it is I need to know.”

“No.”

Magnus waited for Raphael to continue, but there was dead–or rather, undead–silence on the other end. He took his cell away from his ear and looked at the screen to make sure the call was still connected. “That’s it? No? You owe me more than that.”

Raphael muttered a litany of curse words under his breath. “How about…not yet.”

“Better,” Magnus acquiesced. “I have no doubt I’ll know when it is time to act.”

“I have no doubt of that as well.”

“Call me,” Magnus added, in the most chipper tone he could muster.

Raphael hung up on him.

“Rude,” Magnus said out loud. He set his cell on the kitchen counter, then conjured up take out and a steaming cup of coffee. His stomach was still rolling, but he couldn’t afford to be weak.

He needed to eat, then sleep. To be impenetrable.

There was a war coming.

And Magnus would be on the front lines, protecting his people.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


End file.
